The Bronze Arrow Project

Chapter 1- Samira

The sun shone into my room, waking me with its bright light. I sat up and stretched, ready to start the day. I grabbed my phone off of its spot on my bedside table and decide I should probably get ready.

I began brushing out my long, thick, dark brown hair, miraculously taming it and caging the beast in a tight braid. I brushed my teeth, the harsh minty flavor almost making me gag. Finally, I got dressed in a t-shirt and skinny jeans, a personal favorite outfit of mine. I made my way downstairs, almost tripping when I followed the sharp turn from the bottom of the stairs to the kitchen. When I arrived, I was greeted with an opportunity for a good laugh.

As soon as I saw my older brother, I tried-and failed- to stifle a laugh, "Rafi, what's with your face?"

He suddenly glanced up at me from the table, "What's wrong with my face?"

I had to try even harder to stop from laughing as I handed him a spoon to look at his reflection. I could no longer hold in my laughter as he dropped the spoon in horror after seeing the bright red marker all over his face.

"Ah!" He jumped up from his chair, then turned to me, "Did you do this?"

I laughed, "C'mon Rafi. You act like you don't know me. If I had done that, you'd be going to school completely ignorant of it."

He nodded, then his eyes grew wide as he remembered, "Oh."

"What?" I asked, still laughing.

"I fell asleep working on my art project," he explained, "I was using a red marker to outline something, when I was so tired that I fell asleep."

I gave him a slow clap, then went to the kitchen to get some tea and breakfast. I poured myself a mug of the vanilla flavored drink, grabbed one of my mom's famous pita breakfast sandwiches, and joined the masterpiece at the table. I glanced up at him, amused, "Aren't you going to wash it off?"

He nodded his head, "Let me eat first, woman," he cut back playfully, then took a bite of his sandwich dramatically.

"Alright, Artwork," I replied with a smirk.

I quickly ducked as a piece of delicious pita bread flew through the air at my head from across the table. When I got back up, I tore a piece of bread from my own sandwich and threw it at him, "Hey what was that for? It was a perfectly good piece of bread."

"You know perfectly well what it was for," he teased, "Now I'm gonna go get this marker if of my face," he gave me a stern look, but I knew he was messing with me, "Behave while I'm gone."

"No promises," I replied cheekily as he retreated up the stairs, probably to reclaim his dignity.

>>--------------->

Roughly 30 minutes later, Rafi was behind the wheel of his silver slugbug and I was in the passenger's seat, jamming to some music. I cheered as the trumpets hit the high note, my voice probably going as high as they did.

"Will you stop?" Rafi groaned, "This is the fourth time you've listened to the show in the car ride alone."

"It's your girlfriend's band," I shot back, "You should start being a little more supportive."

"They should start winning some competitions."

"They did," I argued, "They won every trophy at that one competition."

He sighed, "Oh yeah. I guess they did."

I laughed, "Geez, c'mon, jerk face."